


Golden Lightning

by Blueishfood



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Alternate Universe, Alya Césaire Ships It, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Inspired by StarStruck (2010), Ladybug Miraculous, Minor Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27024877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueishfood/pseuds/Blueishfood
Summary: I got a request to write a ladybug/starstruck au, and this is the outcome:Alya and Marinette have half a week to themselves at the new Dupain-Cheng american beach house. Who would have thought Marinette and her lovely junior reporter would happen across american heartthrob Adrien Agreste himself? Not Marinette, that's for sure.But that somehow familiar, innocent-looking boy was asking for food and what was she supposed to do?Leave him there?
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15
Collections: Fluffy MLB, Miraculous Crossover





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My story doesn't exactly follow the request to detail, but the request was as follows:
> 
> “Can you please do a miraculous ladybug/starstruck AU? Lets say, Marinette's family going on vacation and Alya tags along since she's practically family. Alya drags Mari around since she wants a good scoop for her blog. Alya sneaks in with Nino(aka stubby character) for an exclusive. Adrien was told not to go out but he had to make an appearance at his long time friend's(Chloe) party. Mari gets tired of waiting and decides to use a backdoor to find Alya only to get hit by Adrien with said door?”
> 
> I also posted part of this story on tumblr months ago and forgot to post it here.

“How does two bakers even have the money for a beach house in America?” Alya asked, heaving her suitcase out of the car.

Marinette hissed as her knee touched the black car. Summer in California was not like the summer heat in France. This was something different altogether, and Marinette was nowhere near used to it.

“They don’t”, she said, and rubbed her hand over the stinging spot, “We inherited it from some rich grand uncle in China, mom says he’s got old money”

Alya stepped away from the car to take in the view of the charming house they were staying at. It was luxurious, but small and someone had clearly tried to make it seem modest. “Are we talking crazy rich Asians?” Marinette guffawed, pressing a hand over her mouth as a lady walking with her dog stopped to stare at her.

“No.” She snorted, then quieted, placing a hand on her hip, “Well, honestly, I don’t know.” Alya rolled her eyes. It was just like her best friend to have rich family members and not know about it.

Marinette hoisted the backpack up on her shoulders and grabbed her case, together they made their way down to the building. Alya felt sand creep into her socks, and asked, “So, you know this uncle?”, to get her mind off the feeling.

“No, never met him”, Marinette shrugged, lifting her case since dragging it in the sand seemed pointless, “apparently he spent his youth in France, and loved that mom married a French man.” They flinched as a seagull squawked loudly over their heads and Marinette added; “Also helps that he’s got no children.”

The inside of the house was a little less modest than the outside. And by little, Alya meant a lot. It was graciously filled with colourful and modern interior, combined with a flat screen TV and kitchen equipment to last centuries. Marinette inhaled in surprise.

“Holy fuck.” Alya uttered, ignoring Marinette’s reaction to her word of choice with a wave. She walked over to the kitchen to pat the mahogany table. “This is seriously so much like crazy rich Asians.” Marinette stopped her exploring of the bedrooms to roll her eyes at the journalist.

“This is nowhere near crazy rich Asians”, she stated, and plopped down on the leather couch.

“Okay, so we’ve got a little way to go, let’s say…” Alya poked the microwave until it made an electric sound, noticing how it was better quality than the one she had at home, “Crazy rich Frenchmen?” They laughed.

“Oh my-” Marinette shot up from her place in the couch and ran over to the large windows looking out over the ocean. “We’ve got to go swimming!” She squealed excitedly as Alya came up beside her to enjoy the view.

“Your parents are coming on…” Alya trailed off, leaning back against the couch’s armrest.

“Tuesday”, Marinette said, letting the word float in the air for a little while.

“Half a week then, to ourselves.” The two girls turned to look at each other, grins forming on their faces.

Alya screamed loudly, Marinette joined in. The lady with the dog turned around to look back at where she had left two French speaking girls. She rolled her eyes, _Europeans_ , she thought, and continued her walk.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ““What am I even supposed to do there?” she asked, squinting.
> 
> “You can be my cute sidekick”, Alya said and downed a water bottle.
> 
> “I can’t go inside”, Marinette deadpanned, fixing Alya with an amused smile who in turn shrugged.
> 
> “You’ll be my cute driver.” She bumped her friends shoulder a little and grinned, “I even heard Adrien Agreste is going to be there.”

The waves rolled by, racing for the beach in a constant battle. The calming sound reached Marinette where she was lying on her beach towel. It was relaxing, and she felt her eyelids becoming heavier every time she blinked. The breeze ruffled her hair, combing through the strands and making goose bumps cover her arms, she gave a delighted shiver.

The calming moment was stopped by Alya who plopped down beside her, on her large white towel. Cold drops hit Marinette, trailing down her back in tiny rivers.

“How was it?” Marinette asked, looking up from her book while Alya was putting her wet hair up in a bun.

“Great!” she lifted an eyebrow at Marinette, “You should try it.” Marinette laughed.

“No thank you. I like the beach.” She dragged her toes through the sand, smiling at the feeling.

“The beach comes with a sea”, Alya deadpanned, flicking some more water at Marinette. The latter shook it off and pushed her sunglasses further up her nose.

“Yeah, no.”

“I met a cute guy.” Alya leaned down on her elbows, closed eyes and faced the sky. Changing the subject seemed like the right move.

“Really?” Marinette perched up, “Who?” she asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Alya lounged back, grabbing a few crackers from their box, “He tells me there’s a party tonight, he’s DJ’ing.”

“Cool, sounds like someone you’d like.” Alya waved her off, as if it were irrelevant, and explained instead that there were supposed to be a lot of known celebrities at this party, apparently her friend could get Alya in as his plus one.

Marinette resisted the urge to roll her eyes at how Alya’s eyes brightened when talking about the possibility of a scope. She could be standing in the middle of a crowd full of naked models, and yet she would be focused on a seagull if it could make the next front page. It was so typical Alya.

“I’m sure it will be fun,” Marinette assured her, grabbing another cracker when the salty smell reached her. “Just don’t drink anything your eyes has left and keep your phone on you at all times.” Alya rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry, our moms taught us the same rules”, she said and smiled when Marinette seemed a little unsure. “I’ll be extra careful.” She assured her friend, adjusting her bikini strap.

It wasn’t like Alya was unaware of the risk. She knew this was a strange city in a strange country and she was far from familiar with the man she had met… Nino. But she had a good feeling, and good feelings often lead to good stories.

“Can you drive me though?” She asked after a while, turning a pleading gaze to Marinette. Her dark-haired friend put down her book, threading a hand through her salty hair.

“What am I even supposed to do there?” she asked, squinting.

“You can be my cute sidekick”, Alya said and downed a water bottle.

“I can’t go inside”, Marinette deadpanned, fixing Alya with an amused smile who in turn shrugged.

“You’ll be my cute driver.” She bumped her friends shoulder a little and grinned, “I even heard Adrien Agreste is going to be there.”

Marinette lifted an eyebrow. “Why would I care?” She asked, picking her book back up while Alya looked a little offended.

“Isn’t he the son of your fashion icon?” Alya pushed her sunglasses a little further up her nose. And he was, he definitely was, but the problem with that particular fact would be;

“Key word; son.” Marinette rolled her eyes at the thought, “He’s just some stuck up brat and apparently a huge party lion who uses all his dad’s money on alcohol and girls.”

“He buys hookers?” Alya asked with furrowed eyebrows, sounding a bit distraught.

Marinette shrugged, “According to a magazine.”

“You don’t even believe in those”, Alya laughed, poking the side of her light tummy.

Marinette slapped her hand away.

“And you shouldn’t write for them, but here we are.” Alya bit down on another cracker, ignoring the low blow, since Marinette knew exactly how hard she worked to get a stable job in the magazine.

“Then just don’t go near the building.” Marinette felt her defences slip a little as Alya talked. “You can go back here while I go in, then you just come to get me after.”

Marinette sighed, thinking of the fast and furious movie she was planning on watching this evening. Curling up in a blanket with pizza and soda sounded a lot more appealing than-

“I’ll drive you. Just remember to call me when you’re done”, she said instead of refusing, hoping to keep a little track of her best friend. Alya tended to ignore all reason when dealing with a scoop.

“Deal.” Alya grinned, rising to gather their things.

The evening went by in deciding on an outfit -I only own shorts! I need to look less tourist, more business- and choosing a fitting makeup -something flirty but serious-, and by the time Alya was ready to leave, Marinette was just about ready to go to collapse on the couch.

It’s just driving, she reminded herself, and got in the car. The building they arrived at was big and flashy up front, but Alya had been told to meet up by the back door. Said back door was way less flashy, dare she say, a little creepy.

“I’ll stay here until you text me an update”, Marinette muttered when she saw a lanky man open the door and wave enthusiastically.

“You think I can’t handle him?” Alya looked back to the man, then at Marinette, almost near to laughing. Marinette’s face, though, didn’t exactly scream practical joke.

“Of course, you could,” she said, a sort of grim humour in her voice, “if he is unarmed.”

“Really?” Alya asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow before glancing back at the man. Marinette sighed,

“Please, A, this is America, who the heck knows.” The two girls shared a meaningful glance, before Alya stepped out of the vehicle.

“I’ll text you”, Alya promised, leaning down to look at her concerned friend.

“You better!” Marinette shouted after her, an inch before the door closed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was reaching for the handle when the sky seemed to hit her in the head.
> 
> Oh wait, she thought, as she sat up from the ground, that was just the door.

Marinette waited twenty minutes for said text. When another five went by, she was really starting to worry. She couldn’t just leave when Alya hadn’t updated her, her friend could get murdered!

Marinette reminded herself to calm down. She stayed in the car for another three minutes before she decided that enough was enough. Shoving pepper spray in her purse, Marinette started for the dirty looking back door. She was getting Alya out of there, even if she had to break a few bones to get her.

She was reaching for the handle when the sky seemed to hit her in the head.

 _Oh wait_ , she thought, as she sat up from the ground, _that was just the door_.

Crap. Her head hurt. And her butt.

Next thing she knew, the guy who apparently had just sprinted out the door was all over her. He looked into her eyes, lifted her chin to examine her head and pulled her hands into his to look for scrapes.

Marinette shoved him away.

“What are you doing, running out of doors like that?” she snapped, putting a hand to her head, “You could have hit someone!” she glanced up at where he was looking a little sheepish.

“I did hit someone”, he said, looking at her like she was mad, “maybe a little too hard.”

Maybe he thought he had been sneaky, whispering the last part, but Marinette gave him a stone-cold stare that assured him she’d heard.

“Someone who wasn’t me, dumbass”, she growled, slowly getting to her feet. “It could have been a child!” -she poked his chest- “What then?”

“I don’t know?” It sounded more like a question than an answer.

“Sorry, that’s what you say.” Marinette thought she saw a small grin play at his lips, but there was barely any light in the ally, she hoped to all and any deities that she wasn’t right. If she were, he would lose a tooth.

“Right, sorry.” Somehow, he had the audacity to sound embarrassed. Marinette huffed.

“What were _you_ doing?” He asked, turning the question around, “Trying to sneak in?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

Marinette crossed her arms, frowning at him as if it would get him to stop smiling.

“No. I was checking on my friend.” First, she thought he was going to think she was lying, but he had no reason not to believe her.

“They were inside?”

“Yes.” Marinette sighed, turning back to the door, “Have you seen her, by the way?” she asked, looking back at the boy beside her, “About my height, brown skin, auburn hair?”

“I think she left through the main entrance with the DJ?” he scratched his neck, “they were thrown out.” he looked a little lost, his feet shuffling and his hands fidgeting.

“Crap, Alya.” Marinette muttered, feeling sizzling anger seep into her bones. “Whatever, I’m getting some food.” She started walking to her car when she saw the boy following her.

Marinette stopped.

“What are you doing?” she asked, turning slowly back to look at him. Perhaps he understood that it looked a little creepy, because while he started explaining himself, he tugged at the string of his hoodie. Marinette figured it was a nervous habit.

“I was wondering if I could tag along. I don’t have a ride and I could really use a burger right about now.” His voice was soft, and he suddenly sounded younger than his broad shoulders suggested.

“I don’t know you”, she stated, even though it was rather obvious.

“Right”, he took a step back, maybe to look less imposing, “I -uh- I’ll just wait for a cab then.”

Marinette blinked, looked to his bare hands and empty pockets.

“Do you even have money?”

“No?”

Marinette felt more tired than she had been feeling before exams. But the boy before her looked too out of place in a dark alley, where he was wearing pressed pants and a turtleneck sweater under his dark red hoodie.

He wasn’t poorly dressed, just innocently, not very street like. The strands of hair that peeked out from under his hood shook in the wind, and the blonde locks looked a little too soft. Marinette thought for a moment that this innocent look could be a hoax that would make her take him on, only for him to murder her.

He didn’t look like the type, but Ted Bundy, she reminded herself, was in fact real life.

She closed her eyes, already rebuking herself for the decision she was making.

“Just get in”, she growled in the end, giving him another onceover, “But I have a pepper spray and I won’t hesitate to use it.”

He held up his hands, “I won’t give you a reason to.”

“Good”, she nodded, this was probably the right decision. “I’d kick the shit out of you anyway.”

He laughed, but it didn’t sound mocking.

“I don’t doubt it.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They eat, basically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit on the longer side :)

They had been driving for a good while when Adrien found it appropriate to ask why they had not yet gotten food.

“I’m not abandoning my best friend even though I said I would, stupid.” She snarled, and Adrien suppressed a flinch at her tone.

“Besides”, she sassed, “I didn’t force you to come, you can get out any second.”

Adrien swallowed, drying off his sweaty hands on his pants. “I’m good.”

“Are you waiting for someone to catch up with you?” she asked after they had passed another three streetlights.

“What?”

“You keep checking the mirror.”

Adrien realized that he had been watching the side mirror, fearing to catch a glance of Nathalie, reporters or worse, his father.

His stomach growled loudly, and the girl beside him rolled her eyes.

“Fine”, she said, “No need to shout.” He barely managed to hide a grin at her sarcastic tone.

By the time Burger King came into sight, Marinette had realized she was hungry as well. The boy beside her was almost jumping in his seat. Marinette had to refrain from rising her eyebrows at the antics, she hadn’t seen anyone that exited for fast food since she babysat Manon’s little brother a few months ago. Either way, the blonde seemed to be obvious to his own actions, simply too excited for the food.

The second she placed the car in a parking spot and turned off the motor, he was popping off his seatbelt and out the door in the speed of light.

The restaurant itself was pleasant enough, though the sudden light took a little getting used to. Marinette had never enjoyed fast food restaurants, they were greasy, sticky, and loud.

But she managed, the food was good either way. Marinette spotted two teenagers in a booth by the back, sucking each other’s faces off and averted her eyes, cringing.

Maybe it wasn’t _entirely_ worth the food.

“Gross”, the man beside her muttered, sounding a little like she felt, and Marinette nodded.

They arrived by the counter, where a man with drooping eyelids was leaning on the cash register. His phone balanced in his limp hand, Marinette spotted candy crush on the open page and stifled a snort.

The blonde, ( _she decided to dub him ‘door disaster’ since she somehow forgot to ask for his name, and now didn’t really seem like the time_ ), ever so impatient, brought his hand down on the bell.

The cashier yelped, throwing his phone up in the air on reflex. Marinette managed to catch it and drop it all in the span of a second.

“Well crap”, the man muttered, looking over his now broken screen, and Marinette bit her lip.

“Sorry”, she whispered, a little afraid that he was going to explode. The man simply shrugged.

“It’s fine” he sighed, “just my luck anyways.”

“Wait!” Marinette’s eyes widened, and _door disaster_ jumped at her loud tone. She pointed at him, eyes once again raking over his red hair, blue eyes and familiar sad smile. “You’re Nathaniel, right?”

“Uh- yeah?” He looked a little disturbed and very confused.

“This is crazy! I love your art, I follow you on Instagram and I’m always inspired by your work, I’m sorry, I just, you’re so talented!” she rambled. Nathaniel looked like he had just found a lake of solid gold.

“Really?” his awed word came out in a whisper, and Marinette giggled slightly.

“Yes, really.”

She went on to rant on about his newest original characters, and he added that he would make prints in time for comic con, to which she answered that she would love to go but couldn’t, considering it was placed in the middle of her exams. They discussed lightings and patterns and how they got their inspirations from nature until someone behind her coughed rather loudly.

Marinette turned around, laying her eyes on _door disaster_ who had pulled his hood up further and looked out of place. She had almost forgotten he was there.

Nathaniel’s face turned completely red, and Marinette felt a little ashamed for inwardly comparing it to a tomato. Quickly he began to mention what he was serving, going back to work mode. Marinette apologized for the phone twice, and _door disaster_ offered to pay for it, then they ordered their food and sat in a booth a little way from the counter.

As Nathaniel disappeared behind the counter, Marinette took the time to look at _door disaster_. Well, now that she thought about it, she should probably christen him _gorgeous door disaster_ instead.

Because he was.

Gorgeous, that is.

His chin was perfectly defined, a light stubble dotted the lower part of his face. Marinette wasn’t surprised to see that he was one of those people who looked good with it instead of looking homeless. Her eyes followed the slope of his neck and the dip of his collarbone. She could barely make out two symmetrical cheekbones under his sun kissed skin before she once again noticed his nervous tics.

He seemed jittery where he sat, fingers tapping, eyes darting back and forth between the couple, Nathaniel, and the door.

No one entered.

Marinette didn’t feel like she knew him well enough to ask again why he was on edge.

“I don’t have any money”, he said after a while, eyes suddenly focused on her, and Marinette dragged her gaze away from his strong jaw. “But I’ll pay you back.”

She gave him a tired smile.

“It’s fine, it’s just burger king.” He didn’t seem entirely content with her answer, but let it go.

“We can eat as fast as we can and then go out to look for your friend again.”

“Yeah”, Marinette muttered, not entirely aware of her pale face. She swallowed, but her throat felt dry. After a few tense minutes, gorgeous decided to take pity on her, and put a careful hand on top of hers. Marinette almost flinched.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice nearly at a whisper, soft, concerned. Marinette immediately wanted to cry, and she wondered for a second if her period was coming up, so instead she said;

“I’m fine”, and gave him a tight smile.

He frowned, his brows furrowing, or at least that’s what she thought he did, she couldn’t really see him that well with the hood on. It was enough to break her either way, and her brain decided that the best thing she could do right now would be rambling to a guy she just met.

“I just don’t know the guy she went with and”, she hiccupped, forcing down tears that threatened to spill, “What if something happens to her, and I’m not there to stop it?”

He turned silent, perhaps putting himself in her headspace before he said; “If she’s friends with you, she must be a tough girl.”

“She is”, Marinette sniffled, rubbing at her nose with her sleeve. For a split moment he was reaching forward, Marinette pulled back a little bit, but then he touched her cheek, a warm thumb wiping away her tear.

And his hood slipped.

Marinette was looking into his eyes when it happened, and it all hit her like a ton of bricks. The jitters, the rushing, the craving for fast food? He was-

“Adrien Agr-?” she was about to ask, just to make sure, but he put his hand over her mouth quickly, and pulled on his hood so it covered him up fully.

“Please don’t”, he whispered in a frenzy, looking between her and the couple a few rows down, “I’ll do anything, I’ll buy you anything, you’ll get free ‘behind the scenes’ tickets to be at my shoots, I swear, just don’t scream my name.”

“How stuck up are you?” Marinette pulled his hand from her, settling back in her place. “I don’t want anything from you. I just recognized you because I’m a design major and your father is...” she waved her hand in explanation, and he sucked in a breath.

“Oh.”

Marinette scoffed, “Believe it or not, you’re not such a big deal in France.” She took a large bite of her burger.

“A good five percent of my fans are from-“ he stopped himself when he saw her scathing look, and asked instead; “You’re from France?”

“Oui” she deadpanned, looking like he just asked her opinion on a slug.

“But your accent is-” he gestured for her and Marinette forced herself not to think about how she had just turned down a beautiful opportunity to watch designing behind the scenes as she rolled her eyes.

“We learn English, thank you very much.”

“Right.” Adrien fought the annoying blush that started rising on his cheeks, while he reminded himself not to step in it too much.

“Why are you not still at the party?” she asked, trying not to think about the fact that she had thought he might be a murderer earlier this evening.

“I ran from crazed fans as I was about to get some food,” he coughed, “your friend kind of gave me away.”

“Crap.” That was typical Alya, Marinette thought, and scowled a little. Of course she had to be reckless. “That’s why you were looking around so much?”

“Among other things”, he muttered, frowning down at his burger. When he looked back up his gaze was soft and a little alluring. Marinette swallowed at the feeling it brought up in her.

She coughed, averting her eyes from him.

“I’m going back to looking for Alya, enjoy your food.” She grabbed her paper bag and shoved it in her purse before standing up. Adrien shot up beside her.

“She was with the DJ, right?” He was walking alongside her now, and Marinette just barely concealed her irritation.

“Yes…” she drawled. Adrien’s smile was a little blinding. She definitely didn’t like it.

“Nino?” The name sounded familiar, so Marinette nodded.

“Yeah,” she said, “that’s it.”

“He’s my buddy, you shouldn’t worry about her.”

“Well excuse me for worrying about my best friend,” Marinette muttered, shoving through the front door, and totally forgetting to bid Nathaniel good night. Adrien awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck beside her. Maybe she was a little harsh.

“We could drive to his house, see if he’s there”, he suggested, and Marinette shivered at the chilly wind brushing past her.

“Can’t you just give me the address?” she asked, not entirely sure why she was so against him coming with her. Adrien harrumphed.

“I would feel better knowing you’re not lost somewhere in a ditch”, he grumbled as they got in the car.

“I can take care of myself.”

He laughed at that, the sound sending a tingling feeling down Marinette’s spine that she desperately ignored.

“Yeah, I know”, he said, as if it was obvious. Marinette turned on the engine.

“Then why do you insist on-” she held up a hand and shook her head, “you know what, I don’t care.”

The road was almost empty when she pulled out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I might have updated this... after, what, a year? I don't know, honestly. But yeah, it was just sitting in my folders so I figured it was about time these two met.  
> \-----  
> So, turns out I updated the wrong chapter, sorry about that :) Here is the right one anyways, I think it's a bit short, but short and sweet is better than nothing? That's what I tell myself at lest :D

Luckily, Nino’s place wasn’t far away. Marinette swallowed loudly when she pulled into park. If Alya wasn’t here, she had no idea where she could be.

“It’ll be fine.” Adrien touched a hand to her shoulder, and Marinette let herself relax just a smidge. “Nino is a good guy.”

They walked two flights of stairs before they stood in front of Nino’s door, apartment nr. 4. Adrien knocked in a weird pattern the second Marinette’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She fished it up as the door opened to reveal a surprisingly disheveled Alya. The good kind of disheveled, deciding by the flush in her cheeks.

Marinette almost giggled at her astonished expression. Then she remembered to be mad.

“Why didn’t you text me?” She asked, crossing her arms, the keys clinking softly where they were hanging from her pinkie.

“I did, girl-“

“Yeah, like 10 seconds ago”

“I’m sorry, they figured me out the moment I got there, and threw me out because of the safety of well…” she looked at Adrien, somehow only a little surprised that he was standing beside Marinette, and continued; “you.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that”, Adrien chuckled awkwardly, taking a small step back.

“Control your goons next time”, Alya rolled her eyes, but didn’t look very angry. Marinette lifted her eyebrows as Nino peeked out from behind her with a stupid grin on his face. He looked rather dazed.

“Sorry, I distracted her from messaging earli-” Alya hit the side of his head and he ducked back into the apartment, laughing loudly. Adrien snorted behind her.

“Do you need a ride back home?” Marinette asked, a light teasing in her tone. Alya ignored it, looked back to Nino before she shook her head.

“Nino will get me there” Marinette nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets, and inched backwards to leave.

“Then I’m going home”, she said, and cocked her head in the direction of her car.

“Yeah”, Alya waved, a little impatient, “see you later.”

Marinette coughed, “Doesn’t matter, huh” she said, sarcastically. “Just a means to an end, right?” She gave her friend a heavy look.

“Shut it”, Alya warned. Then promptly closed the door in their faces. Marinette laughed and Adrien smiled.

Marinette agreed to drive Adrien home after that. The early hours of the day were coming up, and she would rather he wasn’t left standing in the middle of the road. With his luck he would probably get killed by some crazy fans anyways.

His house was in a crazy neighbourhood. She looked at him a few times, to see if he reacted at the houses they drove past, but the wild amount of money was apparently something he was used to.

Adrien saw the paparazzi before they saw him. He shouted some profanities, and when Marinette recognized the mob, she pulled over where they were luckily shielded behind a bush.

“Shit”, Adrien swore, grabbing at his hair while looking almost as stressed as when he had knocked Marinette down. Marinette turned off the engine and turned her head to the side to see if anyone had noticed them. They hadn’t.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just drive you as close to the house as I can, and you’ll run to the door.”

“No.” Adrien’s laughter sounded almost hysteric. “They would see you and then the headlines would come,” Adrien waved with his hands, “Finally a girlfriend? A new toy for Adrien Agreste! Playboy Agreste Jr settling down.”

“Toy?!” She asked, outraged while she blushed bright red at the fantasy headlines. Adrien shrugged helplessly, and Marinette understood where he was coming from.

“Then; We got a name! This is her family. Is Adrien’s girlfriend actually a drug addict?” Marinette rolled her eyes at the last one.

“Okay, yeah, I get the point. No paparazzi.” Marinette peeked to the side again. “Do you have a back door?”

“Uh- no”, he shrugged helplessly, “security issues.”

“Oh.” They looked at each other for a second.

Then Marinette reached down to the side of his seat and yanked a handle. The back of the seat straightened out so fast Adrien yelped, and Marinette chuckled a little evilly. He was hidden from view, and so she turned the car around as stealthily as she could.

Her beach house seemed small and quaint compared to Adrien’s mansion. Marinette locked the car doors, and opened the house, her hand pressing against the tree door, sticky from the salty air.

Adrien followed silently.

The air was thick with tension as they slipped out of their shoes, and Marinette wandered towards the kitchen.

“Milk?” she asked, pouring a glass for herself.

“You don’t have anything stronger?” asked Adrien, and Marinette chuckled.

“No sorry, we haven’t really gone shopping yet.” She held out another glass and asked, “water?”

He answered yes to the milk, sitting down by the kitchen bench. Adrien had a sudden realization that Marinette looked rather domestic, dancing about the kitchen, tipping milk into her glass and reaching up to grab cookies. The blonde shook his head with an amused smile, banishing the thought. That was inappropriate.

Then he saw she couldn’t reach the cookies, so he jumped from his chair and took it down for her. She turned around, surprised and looked straight at his chest.

“Thanks”, she said quietly, smiling a bit, before she ducked, sneaking out from between him and the sink. Her cheeks were rosy. A few seconds later, a gleaming white bowl of cookies was placed on the bench between them.

“Where in France are you from?” Adrien had only managed to stay quiet for about a minute. He really did detest awkward silences.

Marinette looked at him quickly, eyes meeting his before she ducked her head down to look at her cookie again.

“I live in Paris”, she told him, “just by the tower.”

“Paris is lovely.” Adrien took a bite. “My mom is from a town just north of there, Ézanville.”

The conversation bloomed from there. From small inquiries and polite smiles, to guffawing laughter and cheeky flirting.

“You could show me around”, Adrien hinted, when Marinette learned he had never been able to be a tourist in Paris, though he had been there on many occasions. She only grinned in answer.

“Do you want to do something fun?” he asked once they had eaten the cookies and was grappling for new conversation topics. Marinette only hesitated for a second before nodding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot for reading it <3 Feel free to drop a comment if you liked it :)


End file.
